The Old Stump - 2023

$825.00

I was born from memory and moss—shaped after the fungi-covered stump that once rested quietly in the yard of a little house in Park Forest, Illinois. Season after season, that stump held the stories of a lifetime: decay turning to soil, soil turning to new life. I carry that same truth in every coil and ripple of my form.

My maker built me slowly, layer upon layer—first a lattice of crochet bones, then 75 hours of stitched bark, spiraling knots, bracket fungi ridges, and soft forest textures. I am not a simple hat; I am a sculpture. My body is thick, solid, almost wooden in my weight and shape. I’m crafted to feel ancient… as if I were carved from time itself rather than yarn.

I exist to remind you that after every ending, something tender begins again. I am the resurrection that sprouts from rot, the quiet renewal no one sees coming. Wear me, and you carry a small forest atop your crown—a story of death, rebirth, memory, and the stubborn beauty of life returning.

I was born from memory and moss—shaped after the fungi-covered stump that once rested quietly in the yard of a little house in Park Forest, Illinois. Season after season, that stump held the stories of a lifetime: decay turning to soil, soil turning to new life. I carry that same truth in every coil and ripple of my form.

My maker built me slowly, layer upon layer—first a lattice of crochet bones, then 75 hours of stitched bark, spiraling knots, bracket fungi ridges, and soft forest textures. I am not a simple hat; I am a sculpture. My body is thick, solid, almost wooden in my weight and shape. I’m crafted to feel ancient… as if I were carved from time itself rather than yarn.

I exist to remind you that after every ending, something tender begins again. I am the resurrection that sprouts from rot, the quiet renewal no one sees coming. Wear me, and you carry a small forest atop your crown—a story of death, rebirth, memory, and the stubborn beauty of life returning.

The Old Stump is one of the most intricate and emotionally resonant pieces I have ever created. Its inspiration came from a fungi-covered stump that once sat quietly in the yard of my old home in Park Forest, Illinois — a place where I learned, again and again, how endings slowly transform into beginnings. That stump became a symbol for me: decay giving way to life, memory nourishing new growth, and the way grief can soften into something unexpectedly beautiful.


I created this piece in 2023, during the time I held a studio at Union Street Gallery in Chicago Heights. That space, filled with light, concrete, and artistic energy, became a refuge during a period of immense personal transformation. It was there — surrounded by other artists, by my grief, and by my own growing sense of voice — that The Old Stump took shape.


This hat is the result of 75 hours of freeform crochet, built over a handmade lattice and layered until the wool became sculptural, dense, and nearly wood-like in its solidity. I shaped it to echo aged bark, bracket fungi, weathered cracks, and the spiraling grain of a long-felled tree. From a distance, it truly looks like carved wood rather than fiber — a small illusion of nature reborn through wool.


Creating The Old Stump was meditative and transformative. As I worked, I felt myself honoring the persistence of life and the quiet teachings that come from things that endure weather, time, and change. This piece carries that history — mine, the stump’s, and the shared understanding of what remains after loss.


Among all the freeform works I’ve made, this one feels particularly alive. It is a sculpture first, a wearable piece second, and a vessel for memory above all else.